Good Night, Sleep Well
by Scyrie
Summary: Like always- Italy wants to spend the night with Germany after a nightmare...and Germany lets him do it this time!


Italy, who was actually in pants so Germany wouldn't yell at him, burst from his bedroom and into the blonde's around one in the morning. Launching himself at the blonde, he started rambling. It all had something to do with a nightmare about a monster eating all of the pasta, and Germany wasn't there to save him, and the monster kinda looking like the German.

Instantly, Germany woke up, growling and shaking his head. He covered Italy's mouth, glaring at him. "Make a glass of water and go back to your bedroom. Italy, do you even realize it's one in the morning?" he asked, and got a swift headshake in response. "That's what I thought. Just… go back to sleep, you idiot, for Gott's sake."

The brunette whimpered, wrapping his arms around the German's wide, strong shoulders. "But what if'a the monster comes back? If'a he's real and you don't save me?" he pestered, staring up at Germany with pathetically sad brown eyes.

Germany rolled his eyes and yawned. "You'll be fine," he said, his nose curling in disgust. Why did Italy _always_ insist on sleeping with him over the littlest things?

Moving to sit in Germany's lap, Italy continued whimpering. "But I'ma so scared, Germany!" he whined, throwing in a pout for good measure.

Sighing growlishly, Germany muttered a "sheibe" with another roll of his eyes. "With all the nights you spend in here, Japan will get the wrong idea…" he muttered.

Blinking, the Italian tilted his head. "What idea, Germany?" he asked, curling up like a child in the blonde's lap, only to be shoved off seconds later.

"Nothing…" Germany hissed, clearly annoyed with Italy. "Just sleep already."

Lowering his eyelids miserably, Italy stared at Germany with large, russet puppy eyes. Moping, he crawled back into Germany's lap, whispering, "…please, Ludwig?"

Snarling, Germany glared at Italy sulkily, eventually sighing. "Alright, fine," he snapped. "Just get the hell to sleep already!"

Smiling brightly once more, as though he hadn't been sad seconds ago, Italy leaned up and kissed Germany delicately. "Thank you, Germany~!" he cheered. Cuddling right up against the bigger man, he closed his eyes, clutching to his shirt cutely.

Sighing once again, Germany closed his eyes as well. He was attempting to rest, instead of throwing Italy out of the window. No matter how much he fought it, he actually didn't mind Italy being this close to him. The warmth of his little body was quite a nice change for once. Though, he just couldn't manage to fall asleep like this. And Italy, of course, had to notice every little thing.

And, he of course, had to ask Germany's least favorite question that he could ever be asked by the lithe Italian.

"Germany…?" he began, his voice very soft. "…Why do you hate me so much?"

Germany sighed sharply, trying to keep himself calm. He should just throw the smaller man out of his room and lock the door instead of answering that stupid question. It would probably cause him to fall asleep more easily. Then again, it could just make him feel guilty, as Italy would just whine and paw at the door all night long like an abandoned kitten.

"It's not that I hate you…" he said slowly. Italy didn't respond. Clearly that wasn't good enough for him. "You just annoy me," he muttered, choosing his words carefully so he wouldn't offend the brunette.

"Ve~!" Italy chimed, giggling. "So Germany doesn't hate me?" he asked, his eyes glad.

Smiling the smallest and quickest of smiles, Germany looked away, glad for the dark to hide the very light pink blush that had spread on his cheeks. "I don't hate you, Feliciano."

Wrapping his arms around the German's neck, Italy kissed his cheek, still giggling joyously. "Yay~!" he cheered. Quickly, he pressed their lips together again, and then curled back up in Germany's lap, smiling.

Germany watched the blissful Italian, waiting until he fell asleep. As soon as the other's breathing was shallow and steady, he gently petted his hair, being careful of the curl. Like always before saying or doing anything -that could be taken in a romantic light- to Italy, he looked around with sharp blue eyes.

Finally lying all the way down, he pulled Italy to be resting down on top of him, still carefully stroking his hair, he whispered, "Good night, Feli…" his voice tender and soft. "Sleep well…"


End file.
